


Monty

by mikawritesthings



Category: Longmont Potion Castle, Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Detectives, Film Noir, Horror, I have no idea where this is going, Monster Girls, Other, Surreal, Transcript Format, basically my attempt to write yet another horror audio drama, but specifically private eye types, inspired by a shitpost, weird gender feels, written at an ungodly hour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24897325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikawritesthings/pseuds/mikawritesthings
Summary: The unfolding, strange world of a well-spoken monster who makes a rather unusual phone call.
Relationships: Original Nonbinary Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. The Call

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lipitor](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/637597) by Longmont Potion Castle. 



> So... this one requires some explanation.  
> I initially found this audio shitpost thanks to a friend. Something about it kind of enthralled me, and I just went:  
> "I have to write more about them. Who is this? What kind of monster are they? What did they just do to that poor pharmacist?"  
> Then, last night, thanks to a distinct inability to sleep, I did just that.

ROBOCALL

Please hold to speak to one of our pharmacy staff.

JANE

May I help you?

VOICE

Lipitor.

JANE

Hi, Lipitor. This is Jane, may I help you?

VOICE

I’m interested in Lipitor this evening, Jane.

JANE

Excuse me?

VOICE

Lipitor.

JANE

Yes?

VOICE

Looking for it. Need some answers on it.

JANE

Okay. What would you like to know about Lipitor?

VOICE

Lipitor. Ah, are you familiar with it?

JANE

Yes, I am. What would you like to know about it?

VOICE

Benefits… possible disadvantages to the product.

JANE

Um, well, it lowers cholesterol, effective in a wide variety of people here, some insurances don’t cover it…

VOICE

[QUIETLY] Keep talking.

[FEEDBACK]

JANE

…you have to have blood, you have to have blood levels drawn--

VOICE

[BREATHILY] Blood.

[FEEDBACK GROWS LOUDER]

JANE

H-hello?

VOICE

_Lipitor._

JANE

[BEGINNINGS OF A SCREAM]

[AUDIO ABRUPTLY CUTS OUT]


	2. The Narration Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the caller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to post these as two separate chapters due to Formatting Reasons, but this is where the story actually begins.

VOICE

I have just ended a phone call with a woman named Jane Brewer at some local pharmacy. She was a rather unremarkable person, but I’d be lying if I said she had no one surviving to miss her.

From what I can tell, the voice with which I am now speaking was once hers.

I have no idea whose voice I used to communicate with her; could have been my own, could have been someone else’s. Considering my distinct lack of memory, either is entirely plausible. My head’s throbbing with the amount of information I don’t know.

I’m in a dingy, darkened one-bedroom apartment, blinds on its tiny windows closed so tightly that I’m unsure what time of day it might be outside. Looks like this was some eccentric millionaire’s mansion back in the day, before they threw a few coats of paint on the… _oddly-shaped_ moldings and converted it to apartments. There is furniture: a desk, a bed, covered every inch with papers and clothing. A rotary phone’s receiver now hangs off the hook over the edge of the desk. My fault. 

I find myself sprawled on my hindquarters in front of a hairline-cracked, full-length mirror. Taking stock of my appearance is my current task. It’s hard to believe that I look like this. For one thing, I’m completely nude, but for another... my body is very much not that of a normal human. My skin, if you can call it that, is almost like cotton fabric: perfectly unblemished, matte, grey in color, soft and distinctly non-skin to the touch. There is a plasticky zipper that starts at the crown of my head, then leads down my face, neck, and torso, to… where my genitals would live. Not inclined to examine _that_ much further at the moment; I doubt it’d give any insight into what my sex and/or gender might be.

The zipper pull seems to be reversible. It’s unzipped slightly, upwards towards the top of my head, to reveal a bloody-red void around my general chin area. I have a mouth there, from which Jane’s voice is speaking my words. If I pull it downwards, though…

[ZIPPER NOISE]

VOICE

Teeth. Sharp teeth, like a dog’s. Perfectly clean and white, grinning from a vertical lipless mouth in my skull. [CHUCKLE] Maybe there are monster dentists in these parts.

[ZIPPING FACE BACK UP]

VOICE

I seem to have amnesia. Not complete; I certainly know how to speak, to tie my own shoelaces, to read, that the sky is blue. Allegedly. Trying to recall my own life, though, from before that phone call, feels nearly impossible.

[KNOCK]

VOICE

And as luck would have it, I’ve got a guest.

[MORE URGENT KNOCK]

VOICE

Bright side is, I’ll probably be able to deduce _something_ about myself from our conversation. My nudity is more of the “Barbie doll” variety, but I’d better assume this company is at least a _little_ polite, and put on some of these clothes.

[FABRIC SHUFFLING]

VOICE

This looks nice.


	3. And Now For Some Dialogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet someone new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to try & piece together some more stuff about this, whatever this is.

[DOOR CREAKS OPEN]

VOICE

And can I help you?

STRANGER

Are you… ah… [PAPER CRINKLING] Monty?

VOICE

For the purposes of this conversation, let’s say “yes”. [SOTTO VOCE] Monty’s a good name.

STRANGER

The name’s Ace Virgil. I’ve been given specific instructions to, ah, “show you around”? I-I was specifically told you had amnesia.

MONTY

[QUIET SIGH] That I do. What exactly does “showing me around” entail?

ACE

I… guess that depends. How much do you remember about where we are?

MONTY

Absolutely nothing.

ACE

Oh. Then that’s where I start.

Right, then. Follow me.

[AUDIO CUTS OUT]

[AUDIO CUTS BACK IN]

MONTY (NARRATING)

Ace Virgil. A person far more human than yours truly. She’s tall, dark, broad at the shoulder, a long leather jacket obscuring most of her form. From what I can see beneath said jacket, she’s got a much more… _casual_ fashion sense than yours truly. Her hair’s been haphazardly trimmed into a shaggy moptop, then bleached a brassy yellow at the ends. She wears large, round sunglasses, but I can nonetheless make out a resting face of worry beneath.

There’s some kind of pale shape peeking from under her shirt collar. I’d guess it as an old burn scar, but it almost looks like it forms the shape of… a cluster of roses.

ACE

Who are you talking to?

MONTY

No one in particular. You were giving me a tour?

ACE

Right, right.

This building is the Asphodel Inn. It used to be some reclusive millionaire’s mansion, with all these secret passages and trick doors and things. Then he died, there were some complications with the will, and now it’s this. But there are still a few hidden passages, if you know where to look.

[SHUFFLING]

[SATISFYING CLICK]

MONTY

Ah, the ol’ trick bookcase.

ACE

Technically, this is much more of an apartment complex than an “inn”? At-at least from my understanding, most of its residents are relatively permanent. They range from mundane-ish humans to more _monstrous_ types, like--

MONTY

Like yours truly?

ACE

Uh…

MONTY

No need to beat around the bush, Ace. You’ve seen the zipper on my face, and I’ve seen my extra mouths.

ACE

[SIGH] The definition of “monster” kind of varies around here. Some people think even _I’d_ count as a monster, while others would restrict that term to people like Bellhop.

Hi, Bellhop.

MONTY

And Bellhop’s the faceless gentleman in the corner?

ACE

[WHISPERING] You have to actually greet him.

MONTY

Ah. Apologies for the slip-up, Bellhop; it’s nice to meet you.

[BEAT]

MONTY

[WHISPERING] Does Bellhop actually work as a bellhop?

ACE

No. He just kind of stands there. The Asphodel isn’t really known for its service.

MONTY

[CLEARLY NOT VERY FASCINATED] Fascinating.

Ace, I think I’m starting to see a pattern here.

ACE

Yes?

MONTY

This place seems to be full of monsters, the hotel’s name is Asphodel, _your_ name is Virgil. I haven’t yet figured out where in God’s name we might be located, and you seem to be avoiding that question. So, tell me.

Are we in hell?

ACE

[GIGGLE]

MONTY

What?

ACE

[GIGGLE GROWS INTO FULL-BLOWN LAUGHTER]

_Hell?_ No, we’re not in _hell!_ God, that’d be such an easy answer, wouldn’t it? That this is the afterlife, and you’re staying at a hotel for demons, or--or banished souls or something.

Well, no. It’s a lot more complicated than that.

This place is the Catacombs, a dingy, glitchy--and forgive my language-- _fucked up_ reflection of the world above. It’s a mismatched jigsaw puzzle of truths and half-truths, dreams and nightmares, narratives and statements and _stories_ from the world of mundanity. The lines between above and below are blurry, and things tend to seep from one to the other.

MONTY

Did you have that whole spiel prepared?

ACE

I don’t have to answer that.

MONTY

So where do I come in?

ACE

Honestly, I’m not sure. My guess is that you were upside for a bit, and things got, ah, a bit scrambled on the way back down.

[DOOR CREAKS OPEN]

[THUNDERCLAP, DEAFENING RAIN]

MONTY

It’s a lovely day out.

ACE

[QUIET GROAN] I hate the rain.

Could you follow me a bit further? It says here there’s someone who’s waiting to meet you.

[AUDIO CUTS OUT]


	4. Well, Now We're Going Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes meet a certain someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Who has two thumbs and decided not to abandon this fic? This guy!

[AUDIO CUTS BACK IN]

MONTY (NARRATING)

We’re in some kind of residential district on 13th Street. The street is crammed with charming, picturesque townhouses that only begin to lose their appeal when you start to examine them. The paint is always some flavor of chipped, cracked, peeling, or flaking. The front lawns? Cluttered, unkempt, overgrown, scraggly. The sidewalk? Rough, gravelly, uneven, faded. There are no people outside of their homes to greet us, only scrawny deer and pudgy cats, both watching our passage with almost-human curiosity. There’s a decaying chapel here on the corner, in just as sorry a state as the rest of 13th Street. A singular flyer, almost completely washed out by sun and rain both, advertises an event taking place here on July 3rd. It does not mention the year.

ACE

I get that you need to wax poetic, but can you  _ try _ to wait till we’re out of the rain?

MONTY

We’re under an awning.

ACE

[SNIFFS] I know, it’s just  _ damp. _

MONTY

So what kind of person sends a hydrophobic psychopomp to brief a recent amnesiac on details they’ve forgotten?

ACE

I understood most of those words. Uh… a psychic, from what I understand? Some kind of clairvoyant.

MONTY

Hm. I never did like psychics. Always those over-the-top performances and tacky pieces of jewelry… Not to mention that incense they always burn. Ugh. The scent sticks to  _ everything. _

ACE

Oh, damn, I think you just remembered a life detail!

MONTY

What? My dislike of psychics?

ACE

Yeah! I mean, it’s minor, but it’s  _ something. _

MONTY

[SIGH] They’d better ham it up at least a little, or this was a useless detail to remember.

[SOUND OF LARGE DOOR SWINGING RAPIDLY, AS IF HAVING BEEN KICKED OPEN]

[CASUAL, SANDALED FOOTSTEPS]

VOICE

[MUFFLED, AS IF MOUTH IS FULL] Hey, losers.

MONTY

[SOTTO VOCE] Fuck.

[NORMAL VOICE] So you’re the person who wanted to see me?

VOICE

Yeah, dude. Dude-ette? Gender-neutral dude. I got this whole vision about how you’d need some guidance or something, which… thanks, Ace, for doing the thing.

ACE

No… problem.

VOICE

I’m Claire Beatrizza Valentino al-Radi the Third. You can just call me Claire, though.

MONTY [NARRATING]

Not anywhere close to what I’d hoped for. More like someone’s funny uncle than someone’s pseudo-scientific aunt. She’s a lady of indeterminate age, short and solid, with light brown skin and dark hair in a sloppy bun. And the outfit certainly adds no mystique, other than what thrift store she might have found that Hawaiian shirt in.

CLAIRE

Dude, if you’re gonna roast my fashion sense, don’t  _ narrate  _ it. Geezus.

By the way, Ace, you want some of my breakfast burrito? I see you eyeing it.

ACE

Oh, haha,  _ no.  _ God, no thanks.

CLAIRE

Ah, I don’t blame you. This thing is  _ nasty.  _ [AUDIBLY TAKES ANOTHER BITE]

You guys should probably come in. I’ve got some stuff to show you.

[AUDIO CLICKS OFF]

[AUDIO CLICKS BACK ON]

MONTY [NARRATING]

Whatever signs and symbols this place may have had of religious life are long gone. The hallways are a mess of props and costume pieces, like the backstage of a particularly unkempt community theatre. Draperies of violet fabric are tacked over the windows, filtering the already-weak light from outside to a thin trickle of purple. Rather than the heavy stench of incense, this place is bathed with a sweet, syrupy, almost artificial aroma.

CLAIRE

That’s candy, my friend!

MONTY

Candy?

CLAIRE

Yeah. I got this, like, medical condition. It does weird shit to my blood sugar, so I’m always craving sweets, so I have a bunch of emergency candy jars around the place.

ACE

The way you say that doesn’t sound like diabetes.

CLAIRE

No, not diabetes.

ACE

Do those window coverings have anything to do with it? Does, does too much sunlight give you migraines, like--

CLAIRE

Issues with blood sugar, iron deficiency, chronic migraines, photophobia, high baseline levels of anxiety, and lest we forget the crunchy crunchy moderate-to-severe chronic joint pains! None of it being curable, of course, unless I drink other people’s blood. You guessed it, Ace.

[BEAT]

ACE

Holy hells, you’re a vampire.

CLAIRE

I prefer the term “creature of the night”, but… y’know what, that’s kind of a mouthful. 

Anyway. I can tell Monty here is physically straining at the zippers to ask some long-winded questions, so… Monty?

MONTY

First off, how do you know my name?

CLAIRE

Right, right. You never told me. It’s hard not to See things-- with a capital S-- while I’m in my element. That includes your name, some stuff about your role in the Catacombs, and… [SNIFFS] your favorite flavor of saltwater taffy? It’s strawberry, right?

MONTY

That  _ sounds  _ about right.

CLAIRE

I’ll try to be as un-spooky as I can. But I  _ just  _ ran out of strawberry flavor.

MONTY

Second, what “guidance” did you think I’d need? Do you have any information on the memories I’ve lost?

CLAIRE

Pfft. Nah. I’m a clairvoyant, not a database. Those memories are  _ yours  _ to recover.

MONTY

But you mentioned my “role” in the Catacombs. What’d you mean by that, exactly?

CLAIRE

[CACKLES] Oh, dude, that’s the best part. You’re a detective!

MONTY

A  _ what. _

CLAIRE

You heard me.

MONTY

[SCOFFS] Miss al-Radi--

CLAIRE

Call me Claire. This ain’t Buckingham Palace.

MONTY

Claire, how in God’s name am I supposed to be a detective when I’ve lost my memory? If anything, the person with clairvoyant abilities seems like the--

ACE

[CLEARS THROAT] 

Speaking as the third party here, Monty, I don’t think Claire’s exactly the crime-solving type. I’ve seen metaphorical gears spinning in your head these past few hours, but  _ her?  _ Nothing.

No offense.

CLAIRE

None taken. Anyway,  _ detective,  _ you’ve got a case impending! In just a few moments, my wayward brother is gonna burst through that door with a mystery for you to solve. As soon as he and his stupid sunglasses finish messing with that lock. That’ll be about 3… 2… 1.

[LOUD CRASH]

CLAIRE

[WITH SARDONIC FEIGNED ENTHUSIASM] And there he is!

Let’s go say hi before he eats all the blue gummy bears.

[AUDIO CLICKS OFF]


	5. A Mystery!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I've gotten the inspiration to write some more. Let's see where this goes!

[AUDIO CLICKS BACK ON]

MONTY [NARRATING]

In the outermost part of the foyer stands a young man, somewhat younger than Claire, who looks like he could have fallen directly out of a cheesy hacker movie. Must be the brother she was talking about. I can see _some_ of the resemblance; he’s equally short and solid to her, and he’s got a similarly soft face. He’s dressed in much more dark colors, though: ripped black jeans, oversized black T-shirt under ill-fitting black hoodie. It’s topped off with fingerless gloves and a pair of shades that are ever so slightly too small for his face.

CLAIRE

You forgot to mention the goddamn design on his shirt. _Nobody_ goes around wearing “BITE ME” on their clothes anymore. Does “tipping your hand” mean nothing to him?

MONTY [NARRATING]

The lad turns towards us. He’s got a look on his face like a kid who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He _does_ have his hand in the cookie jar.

VOICE

Hi, uh, what are you guys talking about?

CLAIRE

We’re talking about how you still owe me 3 bucks, _Lucas._

LUCAS

I… wasn’t… here to… ugh, come on, Claire, that was _years_ ago.

CLAIRE

You want I should start charging interest? Hmm? To make you think twice about _taking another goddamn bite of my Oreos?_

ACE

Uh. Hey, guys?

LUCAS

Come on! You’re my sister! What happened to hospitality? Family coming first? What if I have catastrophically low blood sugar, and I’ll die if I don’t eat this cookie, and the last thing you ever say to me is--

CLAIRE

_Give me back my three dollars!_

LUCAS

_No!_

[SURPRISINGLY HIGH-PITCHED SCREAM]

[SOUNDS OF A SCUFFLE]

ACE

Goddammit. Guys!

MONTY [IN DISTORTED VOICE THAT SOUNDS LIKE SEVERAL VOICES LAYERED OVER ONE ANOTHER]

_That’s enough._

[HIGH-PITCHED ZIPPER NOISE]

[LOUD CRUNCH] 

[DROOLY GROWLING SOUNDS]

LUCAS [QUIETLY, WITH CHAGRIN]

My cookie.

MONTY [STILL DISTORTED]

You can have a petty little sibling squabble on your own time. Act like adults here, or I’ll show you how much of you I can steal _besides_ your desserts.

CLAIRE

Fine.

LUCAS

[DEEP SIGH] Fine.

[SOUND OF MONTY ZIPPING BACK UP]

LUCAS

Claire, do you, ah, do you remember the old woods by our house?

CLAIRE

_Your_ house, man.

LUCAS

My house. Anyway, I’ve been finding some weird stuff back there.

ACE

Hang on, hang on. _The_ Old Woods? Capitalized? On the north side of Zero Avenue? I thought they grew through all the residential neighborhoods and stuff.

LUCAS

Eh, not all of them. Not to toot my own horn, but they don’t tend to mess with our family.

CLAIRE

Ha ha, toot your-- Wait.

Bro. Brother of mine _,_ have you been using your powers of _persuasion_ on them? Have you actually been using your frickin’ night-given _powers?_

LUCAS

Ugh, yes. But _only_ for the woods! Not for people!

MONTY

Do different vampires have different abilities, then?

LUCAS

Kinda, yeah. Like, Claire’s got the clairvoyance, but I’ve got the persuasion. We can, uh, have different weaknesses, too. For-- for example, Claire gets super bad migraines in the daytime, but I can just wear sunglasses and be fine. Claire can drink mostly animal blood when she needs it--

CLAIRE

And Lucas hates using his powers ‘cuz he thinks they’re coercive!

LUCAS

Hey, _that_ was uncalled for.

MONTY

[LOW GROWL]

LUCAS

Right, right, sorry.

Anyway, I went out in the woods the other night, and right as I was walking into a clearing, I heard _this._

[SHUFFLING, AS THOUGH LUCAS IS PRODUCING SOMETHING FROM HIS POCKET]

MONTY [NARRATING]

A compact video camera. It looks beaten up to hell, but still functional enough for Lucas to show us some footage he’s taken on its dinky little monitor. It’s a video of a dark, autumnal forest, lit primarily by flashlight. The woods are quiet, aside from the usual arboreal soundtrack of hooting owls and leaves crunching underfoot. Then…

[TINNY JAZZ MUSIC]

MONTY [NARRATING]

Music emerges from somewhere off in the distance.

ACE

So you heard some weird music. So what?

LUCAS

I tried to figure out where it was coming from for hours. Almost got lost a gazillion times, but I politely asked the trail to lead me back home. Once I got back inside… [SOUND OF BUTTONS CLICKING]

MONTY [NARRATING]

A different video pops up: what looks like the interior of Lucas’s house. It’s too dimly-lit to make out much of the decor, but I can clearly see the inner welcome mat of the mudroom. A few paces beyond it, perfectly centered on the floor, lies a vinyl record.

LUCAS

I put it in Mom’s old record player, and you know what song was on it? That same exact song from the woods.

Something, or someone, is messing with my house. And I wanna find them.

MONTY

Can’t be the woods themselves. They don’t operate with any kind of subtlety.

ACE

Hey, Monty, you remembered something else!

MONTY

There’s more I’ll need to remember if I’m ever to solve this little mystery.

LUCAS

What? Are you a private eye or something?

CLAIRE

He is! _She_ is? They are? Uh, I can’t See the pronouns you use.

MONTY

Anything’s fine except “it”.

I don’t know much about myself, Lucas, but I have a hunch that this is my kind of case. As long as you’re willing to let me solve it.

LUCAS

As long as _you_ don’t bite my hand off.

MONTY

Deal.

[AUDIO CLICKS OFF]

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, the original audio is from one Longmont Potion Castle, who made a bunch of surreal prank phone calls just like this. Mr. Castle, if you're out there, I am so sorry.


End file.
